Starting Over
by LaLaLorde
Summary: Stan has his entire life changed when he comes home one night to be broken up with by Wendy, his long-term girlfriend. What he thinks will ruin his life actually changes it for the better. Chapter story with new chapters every week or more. Style.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello friends! So this is a bit weird and unexpected, but I'm back after about 7 years! I highly doubt that anybody who is on here would remember me because it's likely an entirely different crowd. I used to write almost exclusively Style fanfictions back when I was a lonely little 13 year old girl. (Feel free to ask me for the username, but I don't want to post it just because it's the same name as some of my other personal socials). I've left them up this entire time, and they still get favourites and subscribers every once and awhile. I'm starting fresh with a new account because, well, I'm a 21-year-old who is about to be a university graduate pretty soon, and I never thought I'd be back on here, but sometimes life just inspires you to get back to what you know, right? Anyway, without further adieu, here's my first South Park Fanfiction in nearly a decade. I'm going to draw from some real world experiences that I've had in my short time as an adult, so my fingers are crossed that nobody that I know reads these. But, if they do, hello friend!

* * *

Picture this. You're walking home from work one day and everything seems normal. You pass the same houses that you always do, listen to the same playlist since you can't figure out how to download a new one, and everything is the way that you think that it's supposed to be. That is, until it isn't. Because you get home and she's standing there, but she's not supposed to be standing there. She's supposed to be at home in her pajamas working on her homework. Not in your driveway with a look on her face that screams that everything is about to change.

"Wendy? What are you doing here?" You call out. You don't even want to know.

She doesn't speak until you get closer.

"Stan… We need to talk." And just like that, you do know. Because what else could there be to talk about? You don't want to do any talking. You've spent the past four years trying to talk about things that you knew, deep in your heart, could never be fixed. But you can't just walk straight past her and head inside, because that would defeat the purpose of a break-up.

"Are you breaking up with me?" You know, but the words come out anyway. For clarity? Closure? You shake your head the second that the words escape your lips, because once those words came out, it was over, and there's no going back once they did

"I just… I just need some time."

Isn't that a worse excuse than "it's not you, it's me?" Because when you're in love, shouldn't the time that you need be with the one that you love, and not apart? But you know that you're not in love. Or at least not the way that you're supposed to be. It feels like a cop out and a slap to the face, but if she starts telling you the real reasons, you're just going to be left standing there feeling like the bad guy.

So you stand there, thinking about what to say. Nothing is processing other than the shock, and you know that once you absorb this, everything is going to crash. But you can't seem weak in front of her, because she always thought that you were weak and you resented her for that. So you go out strong, and you don't cry. Instead, you ask to kiss her goodbye.

"I don't think that it's a good idea," she tells you.

"I don't really care what you think right now. I'm going to hug you and kiss you goodbye, because if I don't, I'll spend the night trying to remember the last time that I got to kiss you, and I don't want that."

She kisses you, and it's not a Wendy kiss. It's a stranger's kiss, and not the kind that you've fantasized about where you stand in the dark and make love to the new girl at a bar. It's the kind where you just want it to end because there's nothing to gain. No love, no sex, it's just lips. You hug her, and you can't tell if it's her body or yours that is limp.

What else is there to say? Is it better to speak or to be silent? Do you even dare ask if you did something wrong?

"Are you sure I can't change your mind?" Slips out, but only because you know that there's nothing that either of you could do to bring back the magic that was there four years ago. The idea of fighting for her disgusts you, and you suddenly realize that you haven't been fighting for her this entire time, but you've been fighting for the part of yourself that wanted out. And the part of you that wanted out also wanted somebody else.

* * *

Author's note: So I started writing this and planning on it being a one-shot, but I realized that I have a lot more material in this plot to move forward with a longer, chaptered piece, so please subscribe and stand by for more! So who did Stan want out for? Find out within the next week for more! 😊


	2. Chapter 2

You say goodbye and you don't know whether you should watch her walk away or not. Should you offer to walk her home? Is that the gentleman thing to do when it's dark and cold outside? You have to remember that you're the one who is being left here. All of the months of wondering if this was the right thing to do, only to decide not to, and yet she makes the decision for you. Fuck her. You're the one being left and you deserve to feel that.

But you don't. It doesn't really feel like being left. You still feel like you're the one leaving, because you know that this isn't over. And you want to run off to somebody else.

Where is Kyle?

You look down at the phone in your hand, and then back up at Wendy, now walking away. Do you say goodbye? Or do you turn around and walk inside?

You stay standing, waiting for something to happen. You briefly hope that he texts you, knowing what has happened. But why would he? Are you supposed to tell him? "Hey Kyle, I just got dumped. I've been thinking about you for awhile, and now that I'm single, how about it?" Or do you wait for him to find out? In a small town, it's bound to be news eventually.

Everything starts to hit you once you walk inside and back to your room. To a room with pictures of the two of you, and of just her, surrounding you on your walls. Tears appear, slowly dripping down your face until they can't stop, and you're laying on your floor sobbing and clutching your chest, wanting it to all go away. You think again about texting Kyle, but you don't have the energy to open your phone. Your password is still "Wendy".

Hours go by and you're waiting for you phone to go off. From someone, anybody who can be there. You hope that Wendy texts you because that's what you're used to. Four years. Is she supposed to text you and apologize? But what would she apologize for? This is all happening for a reason. Right?

You're still on your bedroom floor at 3am when your phone finally buzzes. Kyle? Wendy? It better not be Cartman.

It's Butters. Oh.

 _My dad kicked me out again. Can I come over?_

You know that things have been tough for Butters ever since his mom was sent away. Butters tried to tell everybody that she was on a spa retreat in Switzerland, but we all know that she's in the psych ward at the hospital after trying to kill her husband. Butters doesn't know that we know the truth.

Before replying, you think for a minute. Do you want him to be let inside your pain right now? You're hurting. Should you cope with it alone? Spend the night in tears, wishing someone was laying beside you? Or do you let a sort-of friend in and see if it makes the hurting go away?

 _I guess so. But Butters? Bring some beer._


	3. Chapter 3

Butters gets to you quickly. By 3:30 he's sitting on your floor in his pajamas, a bottle of rum by his feet and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. You are sharing your misery tonight.

Missing beer would be noticed by his dad, so he dipped into his mother's stash. By the time she finally returned, if she was ever able to, it would be ridiculous of her to remember how much alcohol she had left behind. Thankfully, it was plenty, and so Butters was able to nurse his own bottle of rum while you had vodka to keep you company. Your party rule was always a shot every hour, to keep things spicy, but here it was a swig every time a new emotion started to creep it's way in. You were already feeling it.

You let Butters rant about his family life to you when he first came in, knowing that his hurt did not outweigh your crisis. But once he starts to get quiet, knowing that there's only so much that he can say before getting into the secrets of his mother, it's your turn.

"So, Butters… I know you're having a tough time, but there's something that I have to tell you, too." You say, before taking a big swig.

"Did something happen?" He asks.

"I guess you could say that. I got home from work tonight and Wendy was waiting there so that she could dump me."

"Oh, hamburgers. I'm sorry, Stan. Did she say why?" You see hesitation in his eyes, as he wonders whether he should come and comfort you. You're glad when he starts to move but stops himself. A hug right now could be exactly what you need to start crumbling again.

"Not really. And I know there's a lot of reasons why we weren't really working out, I just can't believe she did it. I feel blindsided," you start, and you know there's so much more that you could say, but you don't know if you want to.

"Four years is a long time, Stan. How are you feeling?" He reaches his hand out with the rum, and you gladly take some, offering your vodka in return. You switch bottles entirely.

"I don't really know yet. I feel sad, but I don't know if I miss her, you know? It's not like things were perfect. I don't know if my heart feels broken." You start to think about the times your heart has felt broken, if it ever really has. It was pretty much always Wendy. You had a brief, but whirlwind romance with Kenny when you were 14. He never loved you, but you gave so much of your young heart to him that you felt that he had to love you. When you didn't, everything hurt for a really long time. And then Wendy happened, and she was your distraction. Was that all she ever was? A distraction from the pain of everything else in the world? Is a distraction what you need right now?

You start to think about Kyle again. He could be your distraction, but you don't want that. Sure, you could text him and try and let him make you feel things, but he doesn't deserve to be a rebound. He deserves to be so much more. So do you wait? Would he even want you if you didn't?

"Have you told anybody else? Does Kyle know?" Butters asks after letting you sit in your sadness for a minute.

"No, just you. I don't know how to tell everybody. I want everybody to just magically know, because breaking the news repeatedly is going to suck ass. What should I do?"

"Can you give me your phone?" He asks.

"What? Why? Are you going to text him?"

"Who, Kyle? No, I'm just going to make a post. Trust me," he says, and for some reason, I do.

He takes my phone and gives it back almost immediately.

An Instagram story. Nothing but a black background, and the words, " _Single. Now what?"_ You think about deleting it for a moment, but it works. You do, however, block Wendy from seeing your story. You don't want her to think that you're looking for attention. But is that what you're doing? Technically it wasn't you who posted it, anyway. And that's enough justification for now.

Though you think almost everyone should be asleep right now, you get a few replies within minutes.

 _Drink a lot._ Tweek.

 _Tinder! And bitches. Lots of bitches._ Clyde.

 _Listen to good music and eat lots of snacks._ Cartman. With nothing rude to say, for once. But he has had his fair share of breakups, so maybe he understands something beyond himself this time.

You wait and check again before falling asleep. Kyle still hasn't seen it. He's definitely asleep.

Butters sleeps on the floor, covered in blankets. You lay there, glad that you aren't alone, and force yourself to think about anything other than Wendy. You can't stop checking your phone, hoping she says anything to acknowledge what happened. You also hope that you see Kyle's name pop up, but it doesn't. Once last check. He still hasn't seen your post.

You don't feel yourself fall asleep, but you feel yourself wake up multiple times throughout the few hours you have left to sleep. Butters finally wakes you up for real at 8am. He feels fine, you feel nauseated. You run to the bathroom to puke, and then brush your teeth and shower. When you get out, you realize that you didn't check your phone when you woke up, but you should have, because Kyle's name is waiting there for you.

 _You let me take you for a drink._


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Hey friends! Sorry for the delay in updating. This story is very personal to me and based off of something that has occurred in my life, and it takes a lot out of me, but I also have been waiting for inspiration to hit to start writing more. Hopefully I don't take a long break like that again, but my apologies if I do.

The way that the post works is that people submit replies, and you can post those replies publicly with your own addition, but nobody knows who submitted the reply. So while you are feeling over the moon about Kyle's reply, it begs the question of what to post along with it, if you should post anything at all. Would the offer of drinks make anybody think that there's more to it than there should be? People take other people out for drinks all the time with no hidden meaning. And so you sit on the edge of your bathtub, still dripping wet, and think about what would work best, without sounding too eager.

You add the post to your story with the words "I'm down. Seriously." Is that enough to make sure that Kyle knows that this means something to you more than drinks? Is it lacking just enough that nobody else can assume that you're moving on too quickly? But is it really moving on if you've spent months wondering how it feels to kiss Kyle, when Wendy was the one that was already on your lips? Nothing matters now but the promise of a night out with the one that you think you could love.

You finish getting ready, and try to avoid your phone as much as possible. Every minute that passes could mean another message from Kyle, and you do not want to seem to eager if you reply as soon as he sends something. However, when you get to school, there is still nothing waiting for you.

That is, until you go inside, and he's there beside your locker.

You can see him the second that you enter the doors. You know how many other people are standing around, and all of the know about the pain that you should be feeling. You know that they're all wondering what went down between you and Wendy. Did you cheat on her? Did she cheat on you? Was she a psycho bitch? Did you take advantage of her? You want to yell to the world that it's over, and it doesn't matter why. You want to say that it doesn't matter how little she loved you, because you loved someone else enough to make up for it. But, of course, you can't. So you look into Kyle's eyes as you walk down the hall, your heart beating louder with each footstep that you get closer.

"Hey, Stan." Kyle speaks so softly, his voice dripping with compassion for your "heart-break". He wraps his arms around you in a brief hug. Nobody would expect a thing. Afterall, you are best friends, and a best friend hugging another boy after a break-up is at least semi normal. Even Cartman wouldn't accuse you of being a faggot.

When your head is curled up to his neck you realize how hard it's going to be to pull away from the hug. How badly you just want to stay there and cry your eyes out. Not out of sadness, but out of desire, and how many emotions the little redhead makes you feel. But it has to end – you know it does, and so you break it off first before he can, because the idea of him pushing you away hurts more than anything Wendy could ever have made you feel.

When you are standing apart again, starting into his eyes, you have so much that you want to say. You know that you have to keep it from pouring out. You know that neither of you are ready. So instead, you ask,

"When are you taking me out for that drink?"


End file.
